It’s a sunny, cool, mid-winter day and you have been waiting to hike in the State park all week. Now that it is the weekend [it’s Thursday, close enough], you rush to the park around late afternoon and get a good parking space.
You check your backpack to make sure you have everything you need: waterbottle, granola, packets of ammonia, bug spray, pocket knife, flashlight, camera, and a cell phone. Your reflection in the car window reveals a hiker determined to explore the woods: a ball cap, thick long-sleeve shirt, jeans and durable leather boots.
You look at the your surroundings. The parking lot is shaded by a grove of large white oaks; beyond the trees is a field of tall grass. Within the field is a dirt trail leading to the woods a half mile away: this particular trail is familiar yet has numerous paths you have not explored.
Closer by another trail goes around a corner. This one goes under a large stone bridge into another section of the forest, but the rangers have sealed it off to keep hikers out. At this time park rangers and fire engines are near the bridge.
You start to head to the woods—-
an explosion is heard near the bridge. You see a plume of smoke go up.
All this buzz is making you curious; what is going on over there?
*This is the crossroads where paths are woven,
Now is the place of a road newly chosen.